


Night music

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-08
Updated: 2006-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trowa and Quatre are gypsies helping their friend Sally celebrate her wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night music

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hexadecimal00](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Hexadecimal00).



The firelight danced, creating living shadow patterns, on the colorful wagons that surrounded it. Inside the safe enclosure a group of people laughed and talked. Bowls of stew and dark chewy bread were consumed amid cheerful companionship.

To the side a young man sat. Part of and yet separate from the group. His cinnamon brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was fastened at the base of his skull with a rawhide tie. One fall of hair still obscured part of his face despite his efforts to contain it. He’d grown his hair out in the hope that adding length and mass would tame the unruly mess and for the most part this had worked with the exception of that one section of bangs which refused to cooperate.

His eyes were a deep vivid green and this night like every other they were trained on the young man who sat across the circle from him. The object of his attentions was a blond, who sat enjoying his evening meal surrounded by laughing women. Trowa smiled as he watched them. Most strangers to the group thought Quatre was quite the Romeo until they discovered the women were all his sisters.

Trowa had known Quatre all of his life. They had played, and grown up together in the safety of the troupe. It was because of Quatre he was here tonight nervous as hell with his flute resting in his lap. Actually, it was because of Quatre he even had the flute at all.

Quatre had been in need of material for new strings for his violin and had talked Trowa into going into town with him in search of an instrument maker. He had immediately fallen into conversation with the owner of the shop and Trowa had felt his attention and feet wandering. He had ended up in front of a rack of wooden flutes. One had caught his eye, the grain of the wood reddish gold that blended into occasion streak of darker wood. Without thinking he had picked it up, placed it to his lips and blown in the mouthpiece. The soft pure note that issued forth had captivated his spirit. Mesmerized, his fingers played over the series of holes that ran the length of the slim instrument. Testing to see what each one produced. When it was time to leave he had reluctantly placed the flute back onto the rack and walked away.

Two weeks later on his birthday he had returned to his wagon to find the flute and several sheets of music on his pillow. From the simple scales and songs on the sheet music he was able to teach himself how to play more complicated pieces. Often sitting in his wagon playing along while the other musicians practiced by the fire. He had been invited to play with them, to be part of the group that performed for the crowds who came to be entertained but he had declined. The flute was his way of expressing all the things he struggled to say. He had no desire to play for anyone but Quatre.

Not long after that Quatre had been begun training in earnest to become a dancer in the tradition of his family. He also played his violin when they needed an additional musician. Trowa snuck away from camp to watch him whenever he could, admiring the sinuous grace with which he moved and how he seemed to become one with the music that floated around him.

His golden hair and pale skin were perfect against the dark hair and olive skin of his sisters. His open innocent countenance drew people and made them feel safe. The fact that he was an experienced fighter and would not hesitate to act if any of his sisters was bothered was not something the townspeople needed to know. To them he was just an extremely attractive and demure young man who was eager to entertain for the few coins he received.

Trowa set his bowl down and picked up his flute, fingers sliding up and down the slick wood. Finding comfort and reassurance in the familiar feel of the instrument under his fingers. Tonight it would be the first and most likely the only time he would ever play for an audience. If anyone but Sally had asked and if it hadn’t been for her wedding he would have politely refused.

He had known Sally as long as he had known Quatre. Sally was more like him, choosing to do her part to support the troupe behind the scenes where no one gaped at them. She stitched and repaired the costumes of the entertainers while he painted the wagons, keeping them bright and colorful. Trowa was the first to learn of her engagement to Abdul and she knew all about his wistful desire for their mutual friend.

Trowa was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the troupe leader calling for celebration to start and Quatre met his eyes across the circle gesturing that they should meet by the fire. He rose keeping his eyes locked on Quatre and mimicking what the other man did. When Quatre went to stand in front of Sally and Abdul he did the same. Quatre bent to kiss first Sally then Abdul on the cheek wishing them long lives, happiness and many strong sons.

With a nod he drew his bow across the strings and Trowa joined in playing the traditional song of blessing. Even before the final strands had faded away Quatre launched into a bawdy song about a tavern keeper’s daughter and a handsome gypsy lad. The singers in the troupe took up the tune and the other musicians joined in. Trowa lowered his flute and smiled shyly at his friend, relieved that his moment in the spotlight was now over. Quatre returned his smile and squeezed his hand before going to join the dancers who were preparing to do their blessing to the happy couple.

It was getting late when Abdul stood and announced it was time to take his bride to bed. Amid cheers of encouragement, instructions and offers to help he scooped his wife into his arms and carried her off towards his wagon. Once they were gone the music stopped and the leader called for people who wanted to dance for choosing to come forward.

Trowa cringed and began to rise; despite discouraging every female that had approached him he still continued to get offers. He was on his feet when he noticed Quatre was among those gathered in the center of the circle. With a sigh he sunk back down to the ground, his eyes locked on the slender form of his friend. He did not want to know who Quatre would invite to spend the night with him but he could not walk away without knowing either.

The musicians started a slow, seductive tune and the bodies began to move. They spread out and began to dance, each to their own rhythm. As the tune picked up pace they began to break from the group and weave themselves through the human circle. Tradition required each one complete a circle, dancing around each person before offering his or her invitation. Trowa felt Quatre pass him and caught a hint of a smile as he spun and moved away. He lost sight of the blond when people began to rise as invitations were offered and accepted.

With a sigh he ran his hand through his bangs in frustration and looked towards where Sally and Abdul’s wagon sat a bit aside from the rest. Wishing them happiness he turned back for one last look. His breath caught when he realized Quatre was crouching in front of him. He had bowed his head and presented both hands palm up signaling his desire to make Trowa his partner for the night. Trowa’s hands moved of their own volition and he rested one on each of Quatre’s, silently accepting his invitation.

When Quatre’s head came up the smile on his face soft and genuine. He stood then helped Trowa to his feet. Without releasing his hold on Trowa’s left hand he used his right to cup the other man’s cheek softly.

“Tonight is our night to duet, yes?”

Trowa swallowed and nodded, drowning in the desire he saw in Quatre’s eyes. “Yes” he whispered softly before he captured the blond’s lips in a searing kiss.


End file.
